DT4: Revisions
by Concolor44
Summary: (Death and Taxes universe - Sequel 3) What are the limits of Raven's power now? What effect will her rule have on the Eighth Circle? What will happen when her fan club finds out about Jinx? Come and see ...
1. Chapter 1

**Revisions**

 _by Concolor44_

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 _ **Author's Note: This is the sequel to "Regrets", and the fourth in the "Death and Taxes" series. It was intended to be a one-shot, but looks like at least three chapters instead.**_

 _ **Here's a question to keep you on your toes: If your basic personalities clash, how do you work closely with a being who possesses mind-shattering power, without getting blasted into oblivion? It's definitely an idea worth pondering.**_

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 **Chapter One**

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 _Titans' Tower, 06 September, 1:12pm_

"I don't know why you couldn't just do a spell or something and fix all the damage."

"Terra …" Raven massaged her brow, trying to work the frown out of it. "My power doesn't work that way here. I know how it usually gets portrayed in the popular media, but I don't have a bag of Magic Spiffle Dust I can pull out and sprinkle on any given problem, and make it go away."

"But when we were in the Eighth Circle, you just sorta waved a hand and …"

"And we aren't _in_ the Eighth Circle, are we?"

"Well … no. But even here you're like, _way_ more …"

"Would you like to move the Tower to that plane? Of course, since your powers don't work on hellstone, that would make your presence on the team rather moot, wouldn't it?"

"Hey!"

Cyborg walked by, carrying a smoking piece of something that, before the latest battle, might have been electronic equipment. He moved to the edge of the remaining section of the no-longer-quite-T-shaped building, peered down at the large collection of demolished junk on the rocky shore, gave a resigned shrug, and tossed his burden onto the pile. "This is gonna take a while."

Nightwing looked up from his datapad. "What this is going to do is blow our budget for the year. Stupid giant robots."

"Yeah." Terra sat down and crossed her legs, resting elbows on knees and propping her chin on her fists. "Too bad our enemies don't come with instruction manuals. If we'd known about that frequency thing off the bat …"

"Don't remind me," groused Cyborg.

"No, I didn't mean it like that! I mean, you were the one that finally kicked their shiny red butts, right? We just didn't have any way to know … you know."

Giving a distracted nod, Nightwing added, "There's a saying: You don't know what you don't know. We can't beat ourselves up for not having enough information about an unknown enemy." His brows drawing together in a frown, he muttered to himself, "And I promise that won't happen again with _these_ guys."

"Plus," said Raven, "they were canny enough to wait until it was just you three at the Tower. Starfire could probably have taken them down, and my magic certainly would have been helpful. For that matter, Gar might have been able to transform into something small enough to infiltrate their armor, and taken out their circuitry from the inside."

Raising her head and gazing around dejectedly at the rubble, Terra asked Raven, "Are you _sure_ there's nothing you can do?"

"I can help clear out the damaged sections." As she spoke, a severely-smashed and nearly-unrecognizable monitor station floated up out of the smoking hole in the middle of the Tower. It changed direction and added its bulk to the pile of junk down below. "And when we get done sifting, I'll take the rest of it over to the recycling center."

"Crud."

"You could help, too."

"How?"

"The city-side end of the 'T' lost a good bit of its cantilevering. If you raised a column of stone that repositioned it back to parallel with the other side …"

"On it!" She hopped on one of the boulders on the roof and dropped out of sight.

Nightwing put a gentle hand on Raven's shoulder. "Thank you."

Giving him a quarter-profile, she said, "For?"

"That boost. Even after all she's been through with us lately, she still lacks confidence. This will help."

She nodded. Once. "Something she said is bothering me, though."

"Really? What?"

"She wanted to know why I couldn't just 'magic it all better'. I told her my magic didn't work that way here, but … now I don't know."

"Have you tried?"

"Not really. I've been sticking with what I know, except for my obvious power boost."

"Yeah. Adonis learned _that_ pretty quickly."

She let go with a snicker. "I did like his reaction when all the steel parts of his suit turned into wiffle bats."

"And then started whacking him."

"But," she countered, coming back to their current problem, "I can't just _make_ stuff. Healing is one thing. My magic understands that. But the advanced electronics that Vic sprinkles all over the Tower? Not so much."

"I guess you didn't have much of a chance to study anything technical growing up."

"The only thing they wanted from me was control. Everything – and I do mean everything – that I was given to study was geared toward keeping my emotions in check, keeping me … safe." She turned away, looked up at the nearly-cloudless sky. "They say you can never know what might have been. But I have to wonder. Not that I'm complaining about my present circumstances."

Slender, pale arms encircled her waist. A soft cheek nuzzled her neck. "I should hope not."

With a genuine smile, Raven turned in Jinx's embrace, cupped her face, and gave her a slow, gentle kiss. Then she pulled her in tight, wound her fingers into that pink hair, and whispered, "No complaints at all."

Nightwing smirked. "I'd tell you two to get a room, except yours is pretty much a shambles right now."

"True," sighed Raven. "We'll have to figure out … some … place …" Her eyes widened. "What am I saying? I've got a whole dimension!"

Jinx's emotional state whipped from contented love to near-panic in about a second.

As thoroughly in tune with her lover's mind as Raven was, the sudden switch nearly gave her whiplash. "Sweetie? It'll be okay."

"I can't believe you're considering parking us in Hell 'til the Tower gets fixed."

With a careless shrug, Nightwing commented, "You know, it's not that bad. Not anymore."

Staring at him, Jinx said, "Seriously? It's freakin' Hell!"

Raven patted her arm. "The term 'Hell' is a rather malleable concept. When people in this society use the term, they are typically referring to the Christian Hell. But I've read their literature. Technically, their Hell isn't finished yet. It's 'under construction' until their God decides it's time to … well, _end time_ and do that whole Last Judgment thing."

"Huh. Never heard that before."

"Well, I don't pretend to be any kind of theologian, but according to their scriptures, Hell is where all the unrepentant Unfaithful will end up. Eventually."

"Eventually? But what about, like, now? People die all the time. What happens to their souls or spirits or whatever?"

"That's a lot less clear. Apparently a lot of the answer depends on what they believed in life." She shrugged. "Being of demonic ancestry, I doubt any of it applies to me directly." Giving her lover a wry grin, she added, "Guess I'll find out. Eventually."

"I'm just _all kinds_ of comforted by that Raven!"

"My place is the Eighth Circle," responded Raven in a soothing tone. "It's an alternate dimension that has been under the control of a being of Pure Evil for several millennia. Yeah, they collect … let's call them 'defective' souls, and occasionally consume them. But they learned that from Trigon. It's not all they are, and it's not what they'll be … not once I'm done with the place."

Jinx gave her a puzzled look. "What do you mean?"

"I've already begun a program of what I'm advertising as 'upgrades' to their system. Sure, they have to do what I say anyway, but I would rather have them on board than trying to circumvent my will at every turn."

"… I can see that. What sorts of reforms?"

"To start with, they aren't allowed to trick anyone into a soul-for-power contract anymore. That got some grumbles. But then I pointed out that they had an entire dimension where they were the only intelligent species, there are only around fifty million of them, and were only inhabiting a single world in that dimension. That got them to realize that they were limiting themselves simply because Trigon had wanted it that way. They've been talking about what to do with the information for the last week."

"Well … like what?"

"The Eighth Circle isn't anything LIKE as big as our universe – maybe one-ten-millionth the size in volume, and one hundred-billionth in solid matter – but it's completely chock full of magical potential. That's why demons can be so powerful. They all have a conduit to that field of magic, and some have impressively wide conduits."

Nightwing had been listening closely. "So … when you 'demoted' that Duke … Wrenchgallows?"

"Yes?"

"You just throttled his siphon off, didn't you?"

"Indeed. And the other demons are fully aware that I can do that to any number of them at any time."

"Did Trigon know about that?"

"I have no idea. He was so powerful, personally, that I don't know for sure that he ever used any of the magical potential of the place." Turning back to Jinx and taking her hands, she said, "Let's go give you the dollar tour."

"And you're _sure_ it's safe? _Dead_ sure?"

"Yes, Sweetie. I wouldn't put your life at risk, or allow anyone else to, either."

"Well … okay." She got a firm grip on Raven's upper arm. "But I'm not letting go of you for a second."

"Wouldn't have it any other way," answered the demi-demon with a grin.

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 _ **End Note:**_

 _ **So now Jinx gets to see Raven's ancestral lands. The question is: Are THEY ready for HER? Guess we'll find out.**_

 _ **Reviews = Love!**_


	2. Chapter 2

**Revisions**

 _by Concolor44_

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 _ **Author's Note: Well, okay. What would YOU do if you were given a chance to tour Hell, knowing that nothing bad could happen to you? Think about that.**_

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 **Chapter Two**

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 _The Eighth Circle_

"Geez, could this place ever use a makeover!"

"And it will get one. But I have to introduce such concepts gradually."

"Do the demons actually _like_ it to look this way?"

"We're … still exploring _that_ concept. For so long they weren't given any choice in the matter, and old habits die hard, even if they aren't what you'd choose with a clear head."

"Eh. True enough."

Raven paused and brought Glitch's Truename to mind. The demon popped into being in front of them. "You called, Dread La-" He noticed Jinx. "My word."

"Glitch, this is Jinx. She is important to me. Her well-being is not to be altered or disturbed in any way. Do you understand?"

"Um … yes, Dread Lady."

"She is under my direct protection. I want that to be utterly pellucid to everyone."

"Of course."

"If anything were to happen to her … if she so much as breaks a nail due to the influence of one of the Eighth Circle's denizens … the offender would get to experience first-hand what it feels like to suffer a wrath worse than anything Trigon could have conceived."

"Absolutely. Thy will be done." He vanished.

Jinx turned to Raven with a smirk. "Glitch?"

"Simply his Usename. A demon's Truename is permanent, but the Usename changes periodically. It doesn't give anyone else any leverage over them, the way knowing their Truename would."

"Fair enough. Why 'Glitch', then? Does he know what that means?"

"We'll ask him later. Meanwhile I want to show off my new digs."

* * *

Several hundred rooms later, a goggling and quite overwhelmed Jinx collapsed across Raven's throne. "What the Hell – pardon the expression – does anyone need with a city-sized palace? This doesn't strike me as quite sane."

"Dear Ol' Dad wasn't. You never met him, for which you are thankful, or you'd realize it right off the bat. He made The Joker look as sober and upright as a Supreme Court Justice by comparison."

"… And all that power, too."

"Yeah. Bad juju, that."

"No kidding."

"Hey, you hungry?"

"I could eat."

Raven called an ornate table into existence. A few seconds later it was covered with several delectable dishes. A pair of chairs flowed up out of the floor and, with a flourish, Raven offered one to Jinx.

The pinkette whistled. "A girl could get used to being spoiled this-a-way."

"Curses! You've revealed my dastardly plan!"

Giggling, Jinx sat and studied the table. Her eyes lit up. "Sweet potato casserole? And are those pork chops?"

"They are. And that's a spicy cherry compote in that jar there. Try a little on the chops."

"Twist my arm!"

They ate for a few minutes, the conversation devolving mainly into moans of appreciation. Finally Jinx pushed her plate away. "Gonna embarrass myself if I don't stop."

"Too late."

"Ppbbbbbb!"

Raven waved a hand and the sumptuous feast vanished.

"Huh. Pretty cool. No dishes to wash."

"That's one perk."

Jinx sat back, thinking, her chin pinched between thumb and finger. "So … you're Large & In-Charge here, right? Pretty much, if you want it to happen, it happens. That's how it works?"

"That's … a _bit_ of an oversimplification, but, yeah, it'll do for the basic concept. This dimension belongs to me. That idea takes on a lot more facets here than it does in Earth's home dimension."

"Is that because of that 'magical potential' thing you mentioned?"

"Exactly. The magic of this dimension will do what I want it to do, as long as I'm here. That was why Trigon needed me as a conduit to Earth. He could travel across dimensions, but he couldn't bring all his power with him. He wanted to have the same access to it on Earth that he did here, that I do now." Her voice dropped a little. "That's why I was conceived. The _only_ reason I was conceived."

Jinx hopped up, came around the table, and parked herself on Raven's lap. "Maybe so. But it's not the only reason you have to keep going, now, is it?" Her look dared Raven to contradict her.

"You're just irresistible, you know that?"

"Of course."

Raven wrapped her in a warm embrace and simply enjoyed her presence for a bit.

"So where's our room?"

"… Anywhere you like. Literally." She allowed Jinx to sit up so they could look each other in the eye. "Also, what's your preference for how it looks? You can be the interior decorator, and I'll be the architect/contractor, only without the union card or the regulatory corruption."

"Heehee! They should have had you do the Big Dig. Maybe it wouldn't be such a wreck."

"Definitely." Raven considered a moment, then brought up a portal of soul-self. "Right this way, My Lady."

"Ooooo, fancy!" She followed Raven into the darkness.

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 _Later_

"Altitude doesn't help it much."

"No," agreed Raven, "I suppose not. I'd say 'dreary' was Trigon's favorite color."

"At least there are _some_ growing things here. Sort of."

"Agriculture isn't an endeavor that would interest your average demon."

Jinx cackled. "Now _there's_ a statement no one could argue with." Then she cocked an ear. "What's that … sound?"

Raven concentrated, then grinned. "I'll show you." They flitted over the blighted landscape for a second before centering up over the colossal mosh pit Raven had seen during her first trip, though it wasn't quite as full. This time, though, there was a band. Jinx's jaw dropped. "Demons have rock concerts?"

"Any reason they shouldn't?"

They watched for a bit. Jinx observed, "Looks like they're having fun."

"This sort of activity would have gotten them blasted into oblivion when Trigon ran the place. He was a sour sort. The only thing that really made him happy was the agony and deaths of millions."

"He would have given the Homeowners' Association fits."

Raven gave her a long look and shook her head. "Right."

"Can we go down and, uh, like, join in?"

"What, us?"

"Hey, it's a catchy beat! I haven't been dancing in months and months!"

Giving her a quick kiss, Raven said, "Anything for my little morsel."

"So, what, now I'm an appetizer?"

"And the entrée. And the wine. And dessert." She licked her lips.

Jinx evinced a slight flush, but pointed resolutely down. "Please?"

"Sure. Why not."

Once on the ground, the demons nearest them gave the pair a few panicked looks, but as soon as they started grinding against each other, the rest of the dancers shrugged and went back to their rave. After a few minutes of the pounding rhythms, the girls sort of got lost in each other. So they didn't notice at first when a group of succubi surrounded them. Eventually, though, Raven caught on to the swaying circle and held up, steadying her partner, who gave her a quizzical look. A few of the demonesses shuddered and stopped moving, opening starry eyes to stare in rapt admiration at Jinx.

The pinkette looked around, suddenly worried. One of the succubi stepped forward, and said, "No, please, don't stop on our account!"

Shooting a glance at Raven, Jinx asked, "What, exactly, are you doing?"

"We feed off feelings of lust and arousal in mortals." Kneeling before Jinx, she added, "and you've been a total banquet."

"… Huh?"

"It's the way you feel about the Dread Lady. You love her and you lust after her and you cherish her and want to make her feel everything that you can give her … and all that comes through without any kind of filter! We can't get the full experience in other dimensions, and I haven't felt anything like that in … in _ever!_ It's just _so good!_ "

One of the other succubi elbowed her. "Not 'sposed to say 'good'. Remember?"

Raven addressed them. "You may use any descriptors you like. If it makes you feel good, just say so."

A double-dozen mouths dropped open. "Really?" "No shit?" "But I always thought-" "But it's always been-"

"Bup-bup-bup!" Raven held up a hand. "Remind me: Who's in charge here?"

A forest of fists lifted skyward. "YOU ARE, DREAD LADY!"

"Damn straight. Now." She swept Jinx up and engaged her in a deep and passionate kiss. After a second, Jinx wrapped her tightly and returned the favor with great enthusiasm, and the succubi started to sway and moan. Two of them actually swooned.

When the girls had to come up for air, a spontaneous cheer broke out, developing quickly into, "JINX! JINX! JINX! JINX! … . . ."

Raven floated up and pointed a finger at the instrumentalists, who had stopped to watch. "Hey, you guys heard of the band Bolt-Thrower?"

"YES, DREAD LADY!"

"How about their song 'Unleashed'?"

"OH, HELL, YES, DREAD LADY!"

"Do it!"

Raven and Jinx spent a good two hours soaking in the crashing, spitting sonic storm.

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 _ **Quite** a bit Later_

One leg thrown indolently over the arm of her throne, Raven remarked, "You never told me that before, Glitch."

"It, ah, never came up, Dread Lady."

Jinx was flopped out on a large divan to Raven's right, a glazed look in her eyes and a silly, crooked smile on her face.

If Glitch had any ideas about what they'd been up to before he was summoned, he kept them to himself. He did, after all, have a strong sense of self-preservation.

"So how many of these tech-savvy demons do we have?"

"Ahhhh … well, as to that …" He tugged at his bow-tie. "Perhaps somewhere between twenty and forty. It is not a field of endeavor that your, ah, predecessor considered to, ah, have much value."

"So he only let the ones live that he didn't consider a threat?"

"Oh, no, Dread Lady! That is not it at all. If he discovered _any_ demons with a bent for technology, he **ended** them. The ones that are left are the ones that were smart enough to stay out of his notice."

"Hmm. And you can contact them?"

"Assuredly, Dread Lady."

"Make it so."

"Immediately, Dread Lady." He vanished.

Jinx took a couple of deep breaths and slowly turned over on the ornate couch. "You thinkin' maybe these guys can help rebuild the Tower?"

"That was uppermost in my mind, yes. Nightwing has access to a truly ridiculous amount of money, but he has to account for all expenditures. I doubt he would enjoy having to explain our current woes to the Batman."

"It'd be cool, for sure." She stretched luxuriously and asked, "Where in the world did you learn that … that thing you did that made me scream?"

"Which time?"

"The last time. I'm still swimmy-headed." She tilted a sly glance Raven's way. "And I think I could go another round without too much persuasion."

Raven just grinned as she dropped them through a portal.

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 _ **End Note:**_

 _ **Wanted to give a shout-out to everyone who has Followed or Favorited or Reviewed. This series has garnered a LOT more interest than I thought it would. Thank you all so much!**_

 ** _All comments cherished._**


	3. Chapter 3

**Revisions**

 _by Concolor44_

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 _ **Author's Note: Humans have been interacting with demons for millennia ... just not exactly like this.**_

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 **Chapter Three**

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 _Titans' Tower, 7:38pm_

"What … is … that?"

Jinx looked up from where she was leaning on the counter and eyed the slim demon standing in front of the huge window that made up one wall of the common room. "What's what?"

She pointed a black-clawed finger. "That. It's … got colors … all over the sky."

A smirk ghosted across the pinkette's lips. "You talking about the sunset?" She ambled over and stood beside the infernal creature. "You're Zori, right?"

"Uh … that's what the Dread Lady said to tell everyone. My name's a little hard to pronounce for mortals." She pointed again. "What's it doing? Why is it doing that?"

"The skies of Earth are a lot different from whatcha got back in the Eighth Circle. I mean, you got a planet and all, but Trigon sorta … screwed around with the natural order of things, ya might say."

The succubus only nodded.

"You can't see the sun from your, ah, home, can you?"

"No." She couldn't tear her gaze away from the glowing clouds. "Does this happen every day?"

"Eh. Some days are better than others. This one's kinda average." She shoulder-bumped Zori. "Distracted you, did it?"

Suddenly seeming flustered, Zori scooted back to the console she'd been working on. Jinx ambled after her and watched for a minute.

"Would you … please not tell the Dread Lady I got, um …"

"Chill. You keep forgetting she's not her father. She'd understand. Trust me."

Zori's eyes were … unsettling: translucent pink pupils in a shiny black iris surrounded by crimson. But it worked, given the dark-gray shade of her skin. Jinx didn't mind, though. She'd had to put up with people giving her crap about her eyes all her life; she wasn't about to dump the same load on anyone else. At the moment they were filled with what Jinx interpreted to be gratitude. She turned back to her work.

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Cyborg held up a hand. "Whoa-stop. Lubrique?"

"Um … yeah?"

"What's that?"

The demon quailed just slightly under his laser-like gaze, her wings drooping noticeably. "… It's a filter."

As it happened, every tech-savvy demon that Glitch could round up was also a succubus. The coincidence puzzled Raven. She wouldn't have made the connection. But, as one of them explained, the goal was misdirection. It was easier to hide in plain sight as what most would consider a purely sexual creature than it was to try to pretend they didn't have any abilities. Trigon had ferreted out all the others and consumed them.

"A filter?"

"Yeah. Crystal filter. For keeping out the vibrations you don't want."

He took a step closer, made some subtle adjustments to his bionic eye, and stared at it. For all the world, it looked like a fist-sized pearl that someone had faceted and polished into a perfect icosahedron. It was also opaque to X-rays, terahertz waves, and microwaves. "That's a crystal?"

"Um … yeah?"

"Of what?"

"Well …" She took a big breath. (Vic did his best to ignore what that did to her skimpy outfit. Really, he did.) "See, there's this creature, it's called a pagollon, an' it's native to the Circle, an' it looks like a big wormy-snaky sorta thing, an' it lives in the ground an' hunts other smaller things an' it takes in hellstone along with krebbets an' zdroles an' such, an' the hellstone collects in its gut an' over hundreds of years it compacts into a trubb and sometimes the pagollon pukes one up an' leaves it in its burrow, an' then if there's a firestone flow that gets into the burrow an' covers the trubb an' ya know what to look for, you can dig it up an' if the conditions were just right an' ya know what you're doin', you can polish it into a crystal filter. See? Simple!"

Vic didn't say anything for several moments, then muttered, "Damn good thing I recorded that." Gesturing at the bank of instruments they were reconstructing, he asked, "What's the point of putting it in here?"

"This is the control center for the Tower perimeter defense."

"… Yes. I know that. I built it."

"Yeah …" she breathed huskily, her barely-covered bosom rising and falling in such a way as to command his attention. "You sure did."

He backed up a step.

She blinked and dropped her gaze, mumbling, "Sorry. I – I didn't mean to … the Dread Lady said we had to be, ya know, safe an' stuff, an …"

"Hey …" He blinked a couple of times and shook his head. "It's no big. Don't worry about it. I'm just, you know, glad for the help. And you've _been_ a big help."

Her eyes grew dewy, luminous. "Really?"

Fighting his heart rate back down, he swallowed and averted his gaze. "… Yeah." Lubrique was quite stunning. Apart from the small, black horns at her hairline, claws of the same hue, and a long, thin tail, she looked damn close to human, with light brown skin, white hair with just the faintest bluish cast to it that fell to her waist, and deep green eyes. Her fangs weren't even very pronounced.

She blinked a few times then, herself, and said, "Damn it. Sorry about that. It's a reflex, y'know? I just … well, you're damn cute an' I … I wasn't there when Jinx was dancin' with the Dread Lady so I didn't get to taste it, an' it's been kind of a long time since … since I …"

"Hey."

Gradually, she met his eyes (eye?). "Hmm?"

"You wanna talk about it?"

"… Talk about what?"

"Tell me what it's like being a succubus. Rae said you … eat emotions. Sort of."

"It's a little more complicated than that. What we can do is generate feelings of lust in other beings, an' then sorta … soak up the vibrations." She toyed with the tip of her tail for a bit. "Our metabolisms are different from yours."

"Do you need to eat physical food?"

"We _can_. But …" She pondered a conversation she'd heard earlier in the day. "Okay … okay, think about it like this: If you didn't have anything to eat but tofu, would you starve?"

He had to think about that one for a bit, but finally shook his head. "Maybe not. Probably not. For a while, anyway."

"It's kinda like that. We can eat physical food, and it'll keep us going. But emotions are _**soooo**_ much better, and strong positive emotions are the best of all. Lust is good. It's what we can generate, so it's usually what we get. Friendship and affection are even better. But love? Real, live, actual I-care-more-about-you-than-I-do-for-myself love? That's a feast." She sighed wistfully. "I was so _pissed_ that I missed the rave."

"What Jinx was feeling, you mean."

"Yeah."

"What about other demons?"

"… What about them?"

"Can you soak up emotions from them?"

"Ew! Ew-ew-ew-ew! Gross! No! No, we have to use mortals."

He stroked his chin. "So you're _**im**_ mortal."

"Yep."

"But you need to eat."

"I need to eat to stay conscious. If I go too long without _anything_ , I'll slip into a sort of stasis until something comes along."

"So … okay, but …"

"What?"

"Raven killed Trigon."

"Oh! Well, yeah, we can be killed, under the right conditions. But we're pretty tough." She shrugged. "And if something damaged this body bad enough so that I couldn't heal my wounds and it stopped working, I'd just reappear in the Eighth Circle in a new body."

"Huh. Handy."

"Eh. It hasn't been much fun lately."

He cocked a puzzled eyebrow. "You mean since Rae took over?"

"What?! NO! No, I mean under Trigon. No, things have been SOOO much better under the Dread Lady! She'll actually listen to you! She won't even hurt you unless you piss her off! It's totally great."

Another question occurred to him. "Would you mind telling me how old you are?"

"Um … huh. Lessee … fourteen thousand eight seventy … eight? Yeah. Umm … convert to Earth years … that'd be … almost twelve hundred and forty."

"I see. So you were born … hang on a sec. Are demons born?"

"Well, of course."

"Okay, just checkin'. Trigon was already in control of the Eighth Circle when you were born."

"Yep."

"Then what did you mean by 'lately'?"

"Huh?"

"You said it hasn't been much fun lately. That implies that …"

"Oh! Yeah. Demons have racial memory. I can remember what the last eight generations before me experienced. It gets hazier, the farther back you go, but Trigon got here when my great-great grandmother was alive."

"… Is she dead?"

"Yeah. Trigon ate her. He ate a lot of us."

"And she didn't just re-form in a new body?"

"No, no. That only works if you get discorporated on a different plane."

"Ah."

"No, if a demon from the Eighth Circle _dies_ in the Eighth Circle, she's gone."

"Gone?"

"Yep."

"Define 'gone' for me."

"Umm … no longer in existence? Un-made? Dispersed? Our, uh, souls, I guess you'd say, are different from yours. If _you_ die, there's an extradimensional part of you that carries on. We just … cease to be."

"… Whoa."

She shrugged again. "Like you said, it's no big. After you hang around for a few dozen centuries, it gets old. You guys hardly ever make it to one, so you've got this great big mystical hard-on for some kind of afterlife. Trust me, it's not perfect."

He pondered that for a bit.

She asked, "So can I install the filter?"

Bringing himself back into the task at hand, he asked, "If you do, what's the advantage?"

"The Dread Lady said that the machines you fought used vibrations against you."

"Yeah, they did. What of …" His human eye got very round. "That filter … incorporated into the security field …"

"That's the idea. It'll cancel out any vibrations used against it, anywhere on the electromagnetic spectrum, and down into what you'd call the subsonic range."

"… Hot **damn!** "

"I guess that means you want it, then-" She gave a small 'Eep' as he picked her up, twirled her around, and kissed her soundly. Once he set her back down, she sort of leaned up against the console with a goofy expression. "Yeah. … Okay. … That. … Right."

Cyborg was as excited about the new technology as he'd been in a while. "Just show me how to install it, right?"

"… Sure." She shook her head, still grinning, and said, "Thanks."

"For what?"

"That snack."

"…"

"When you picked me up and …"

"OH. Um … oh. Right. Sorry."

"Don't be sorry on MY account! If you're up for some more later, I won't object." She crossed her heart. "And I'll be good, just like the Dread Lady said. No soul-stealing or nothin'. Promise."

He gave her a grin. "Walk on the wild side, huh?"

"Walk. Skip. Slide. Hell, fly if you want to." She ran a hand up and down the gleaming super-alloy of his arm. "For that matter, you could probably take anything I could dish out."

"I'm open to suggestions."

Showing lots of teeth, she answered, "Let's get this thing installed first, eh? Oh, and, uh, Vic?"

"Yeah?"

"Call me Bree?"

"Sure thing."

. . .

. . .

. . .

Nightwing was pacing slowly along one of the residential corridors, tapping away at his datapad, when he came across a sight that brought him up short, staring.

He was near the room that Terra shared with Changeling. Their door was closed, which usually meant one or both were inside. And piled up against the smooth metal were five of the eight demons that Raven had brought with her when she and Jinx had returned from the Eighth Circle. They looked sedated.

Taking a few steps closer, he noted with alarm that they all had wide grins. Had the Joker somehow gotten inside the Tower? Were demons even subject to his fatal laughing gas? He bent and checked a pulse, finding it rapid and strong … which was very much at odds with the being's facial expression.

She flopped her head over a few degrees and slitted her eyes open. Her grin grew wider. "Heeeyyyyyyyyyyyyy."

"Are you … okay?"

"Mmmmmmm. So … gooooood."

That's when he heard the muted sounds coming from inside the room, and abruptly stood. Raven had given him some basic information on succubi, mainly so that he wouldn't do anything to distract or antagonize them, but he did remember about how they fed on emotion. And apparently what Terra and Gar were up to was some kind of banquet for these girls. He cleared his throat. "Aren't you supposed to be helping Raven and Cyborg and Starfire with their rubble-clearing?"

She waved a languid arm. "Alllllll done."

"… Done? Already?"

Another one slurred, "Dr'd Lady said we c'd have a break."

Hmm. Raven must have known about Gar and Terra. He shrugged. "Okay. As long as it's done, I guess. Your Mistress knows what she's doing." He stepped around the pile of demons and continued on toward the common room.

. . .

. . .

. . .

 _ **End Note: No, you could say Raven's subjects were definitely something of a surprise for the Titans. More surprises to come! (Literally.)**_

 _ **Reviews = Love!**_


	4. Chapter 4

**Revisions**

 _by Concolor44_

. . .

. . .

. . .

 _ **Author's Note: And now we get to see some of the Unintended Consequences of having succubi in the Tower.**_

. . .

. . .

. . .

 **Chapter Four**

. . .

. . .

. . .

 _Titans' Tower, 08 September, 6:05am_

Dawn's pre-light cast a pale glow through Starfire's bedchamber. She'd requested an east-facing room for that reason, given how much she enjoyed waking with the sunrise. Of course, since Nightwing moved in with her (turning his old room into an adjunct control center) she tended to wake up _before_ sunrise. He'd be on the outside of two cups of coffee, and going through his first set of katas before dawn got anywhere close. Given Star's habit of twining herself around him as they slept, it wasn't really very simple (read: impossible) for him to get up without waking her. She didn't mind. She could get back to sleep easily enough, if she didn't feel like joining him in his exercises.

Today, though, he'd slept in. Starfire, for some reason, had been feeling unusually energetic the night previous, and they'd not actually fallen asleep until the wee hours. But now something (possibly the increasing level of light in the room? Nah, I don't believe that either) was leading her dreams in some interesting directions. She clutched her lover tighter against her body …

TT-TT-TT

Garfield Logan, on his _best_ day, wouldn't get up before ten unless someone made him. Terra didn't care one way or another, and didn't mind leaving him to sleep in by himself. On a typical day, she'd ease out of their bed, ride a boulder down to the beach shortly after sunrise, have a short swim, come back inside for a shower, and toast herself an English muffin to tide her over until Cyborg showed up to fix a real breakfast. Then she'd channel surf, or (a good bit less commonly) read while waiting on the others.

Today, though, she had something else on her mind … specifically, an encore performance of their late-night love-making. The scent from their earlier activities hung heavy in the air. She knew he always found that to be a turn-on, and she figured if she could be careful enough to wake him up with just the right sorts of stimuli …

TT-TT-TT

Raven, being the other early riser in the group, typically meditated for thirty or forty minutes as the sun came up. However, since the fusion of her Emotions upon her ascension to the Throne of the Eighth Circle, it hadn't been necessary for her mental well-being. She went through the motions, but found herself already to be centered, grounded, and in complete control. It was a novel sensation, and the novelty hadn't yet worn off, thus her current position on the roof of the Tower (leaning on the railing and sipping a cup of chamomile-ginger tea sweetened with just a touch of honey) while enjoying the lightening blue along the eastern horizon.

Her succubi-technicians had been remarkably (supernaturally?) helpful, and repairs to the Tower were almost complete. One of the first projects they tackled was the renovation of her room. A smile quirked the corners of her lips as she thought about her little cotton-candy treat still lying slugabed under the indigo silk of her sheets. Jinx had been rather more than usually frisky, daring, even, in the things she wanted to try, and Raven was nothing if not accommodating. But even Jinx's superb metahuman physique was no match for the stamina of a Demon Lord, and the slight, pink-haired girl currently slept the sleep of exhaustion.

Having gotten a particularly deep level of enjoyment out of some of what they tried, Raven allowed her thoughts to wander. Perhaps a variation on a theme …

TT-TT-TT

Lubrique came slowly – _very_ slowly – to semi-consciousness. At first she couldn't remember where she was. Then the high-tech gadgetry that half-filled the room came into focus, and abruptly she was wide awake.

 _I was … asleep? But … but demons don't sleep! What the Home?_

Then it registered that she felt something smooth and warm and hard against her back, and whipped around. "Victor!"

"Good morning."

"I … you … um, we …"

"Yeah, we sure did, didn't we? You're amazing."

Succubi don't precisely blush, but she had an equivalent reaction as she looked away. "I've, ah … never had that happen before."

"What, sleeping?" he joked.

Her face was serious as she corrected him. "I wasn't asleep. I was … unconscious."

He raised the one eyebrow he had left. "And the practical difference is?"

"We don't sleep. We don't _need_ sleep. But … but I … you were …" She ran a hand up his arm. "You aren't like any other mortal I've ever known."

"And I guess you've known a few."

"… Yeah. You get a few centuries under your wings and … well …"

"I get it. We talked about that some last night."

"That was … different."

"What, you don't _usually_ have thirty-eight orga-"

She put a finger to his lips and frowned. "Wait. You _counted?_ "

"Not at the time. But my system records everything that happens around me." He grinned. "The, ah, playback has been intriguing. You're very limber. But, yeah, you finally did nod off."

"I was full … and exhausted. And succubi aren't supposed to _get_ exhausted. How did you do that?"

"I did have to change batteries twice, if you'll recall."

She gave him an impish grin (really, would any other kind be possible?), sort of slid up on top of him, and said, "You need some kind of breakfast, right?"

"Yeah." He returned her grin. "Eventually."

"I like that answer."

. . .

. . .

. . .

 _11:20am_

The last two of the remaining succubi staggered into the basement and flopped onto the floor beside the door, not even so much as acknowledging their companions. All of them had idiotic grins showing _waaay_ too many teeth, and most of them were having trouble controlling their limbs. After a few minutes punctuated by the odd silly chuckle or deeply-contented sigh, one of them slurred, "Zori … y'were right … s'bes' thing ever."

There was a muted chorus of, "Damn straight." "Fuckin'-A." "So sweet." "Got that right." "Don' ever wanna leave."

A gravelly monotone stated, "I hope you trouble-makers are proud of yourselves."

They all jumped to their feet with various levels of gasp and squeal, whirling to face their Dread Lady (and only two of them fell over).

Raven, arms crossed and decked out in her Queenly regalia, stared them down with a four-eyed glare. "You've been busy little bees, haven't you?"

They averted their eyes, then by ones and twos went to their knees. One of them sniffed and wiped at her nose as subtly as she could.

"Well?"

"… We didn't hurt anybody," whispered a pink succubus.

"Yeah," agreed Zori, "it was great. We didn't have to steal any souls or nothin'!"

"And there's no love in the Circle," added a short one covered in tiny green scales. "Not the real kind. I'd never even _smelled_ it before! And here … I mean, even now, we can feel … it's just all over …" She drew a deep breath. "I know you think we ought to feel … sorry … or something. But I don't. I'm _not_ sorry." She raised her chin. "You can end me now if you want to. After learning what love tastes like? I think I'd prefer that over going back Home."

"I'm not pissed at you for feeding! I'm mad because you kept the other Titans up most of the night. Now they're all completely spent! Well, most of them. What are they supposed to do if there's an emergency? They have a duty to protect the city, but Terra will be walking bow-legged for two days, Nightwing's so sore he can't put his uniform on, and I don't think anyone could pry Gar out of bed with a crowbar."

One of the demons frowned and said, "Hey, where's Lubrique?"

Raven snorted. "With Cyborg."

They blinked at her. "Um … 'with'?"

"Yes, exactly what you're thinking. You might say they hit it off. But he's a special case. As long as he has a power supply, he won't get tired for weeks. Actually, _he_ wore _her_ out."

Zori gaped at her. "No fuckin' way!"

"An interesting choice of words. And yes, he did. He's got his room shielded any number of ways, so maybe you can't pick up on it right now, but they're, um, occupied at present."

"That lucky bitch!"

"Yeah, how come she gets a boyfriend and we …"

"Bup-bup-bup! None of that. What you _don't_ need to be up to right now is killing any more lovers."

"But we wouldn't! Please, Dread Lady, listen! We've figured it out. See, Trigon insisted that we'd only be let back into the Eighth Circle if we brought a soul along. He never gave us much time, and he said he'd cut our magic off completely if we stayed too long or didn't bring back a soul."

"Cutting your magic off? Wouldn't that, ah …"

"Yeah, it'd kill us. So we'd use our, um, powers. Stir up some lust. Get the guy off somewhere private so we could feed off it, bump him off, and give Trigon his soul. But that's SO last month!" She pointed upwards. "This is … incredible! So much better! And it's free, and we don't have to kill anybody, and I've never felt this fantastic before in my life, and … and it feels …" She gave a quick (guilty?) glance around at the other demons. "It feels … good. It makes _**me**_ feel good. It's new and different and awesome and …"

"Whoa, there, Lassivy. Getting yourself worked up."

"Too late for that! Please, Dread Lady, please, please, _please_ can we stay?"

Raven tapped a finger against her lower lip while considering the request. She fought off a smile. "You know … you've given me an idea."

"Really?"

"Let me do some … research. I think we may just have solved some of our problems."

. . .

. . .

. . .

 _ **End Note: Hey, Vic finally got lucky! Good for him. He doesn't get enough love.**_

 _ **And what does Raven have on her devious little mind now?**_

 _ **Reviews = Love!**_


	5. Chapter 5

**Revisions**

 _by Concolor44_

. . .

. . .

. . .

 _ **Author's Note: So what would you call this? Urban renewal? Leveraged advertising? I'm sure Raven will come up with something.**_

. . .

. . .

. . .

 **Chapter Five**

. . .

. . .

. . .

 _Titans' Tower, 10 September, 5:45pm_

"Friend Glitch?"

The demon spun around, eyes narrowing at the floating alien. "For the last time," he spat, "I am _not_ your _friend_."

"… um, Sir Glitch, then? I have made a pudding of celebration in your honor."

He eyed the large bowl in her arms, having no ready comeback for that. "Pudding? What the Home is that?"

"In honor," she intoned, formally, "and recognition of your outstanding contributions to the restoration of our beloved home and fortress, I have prepared the Klat'megtra Pudding!"

It was at that instant the aroma of her culinary effort made it to his nose. Eyes growing wide, he floated over and looked down in the bowl. "What is this?"

"It is a delicacy among my people, prepared to commemorate the achieving of certain goals. _Our_ goal, since the attack of the giant robots, was to rebuild the Tower and to bring it to the state of perfection it had previously owned. Your help in the locating of the technical lust-demons has allowed us to realize this triumph!" She held the bowl out to him. "Therefore, in honor of your careful efforts, this Klat'megtra Pudding is yours!"

He glanced from the bowl, to her face, back to the bowl, adjusted his bowtie, cleared his throat, and said, "Tha ... um … th-thank …" That brought on a coughing fit. Half a minute later he pulled a lacy hanky from … somewhere … and blew his substantial nose. "You, ah, have my, ah … That is …" He stared at her, then frowned. "Does the Dread Lady know of this?"

"I do not know. I did not tell her," and here a significant twinkle sparked in her eye, "as she was otherwise occupied with her True Love Friend Jinx. I did not wish to intrude. It was quite obvious that they would not have appreciated being interrupted."

"Ah. Of course." He eyed the bowl, took it from her with one hand, dipped a claw into the gray/green/purple glop, and stuck it in his mouth. His eyes slid shut in ecstasy. "This is … a sufficient honor." He hurried away, followed by Starfire's blinding grin, as she called out, "You are the most welcome!"

Glitch stopped as soon as he was out of sight, scooped up a generous handful of the Pudding, and spent half a minute licking it off, making tiny, grunting sounds of pleasure.

Zori whispered, "Found your soft spot, did she?"

He whirled around, hiding the bowl behind his back, and giving the succubus a malevolent stare. "Don't think that just because the Dread Lady has decided to pander to your ridiculous suggestion …"

"It wasn't pandering! She has some _awesome_ ideas. That's why she went and got some of the guys."

"… Guys?"

She ticked off on her fingers, "Morax, Alal, Henturaya, Iblis, Ngepet-Sriaa, and … um … yeah, Valac."

"Stop." He held up his free hand. "Why? She didn't put that on her calendar."

"Really? I thought you were her _charge d'affaires_ , her right-hand claw and all that."

Glitch frowned even darker, and muttered, "It was easier when I simply knew what to expect."

"Easier when you might have gotten blasted out of existence for breathing wrong? Oh, yeah, THAT was a load of fun!"

He sniffed. "A simple creature such as yourself wouldn't understand."

"What I understand is that the Dread Lady is going to make things better for all of us, and I am one hundred percent behind anything she comes up with." She leaned in close. "Besides, I thought you liked her."

"I … don't object to her."

"Heh. Damning her with faint praise. See, that's funny, 'cause we're all already damned."

Glitch sighed deeply and said, "The reference had not escaped me." Then he – and the bowl – vanished.

. . .

. . .

. . .

 _9:10pm_

Trying to limp along as fast as she could with the oozing slash on her thigh and her bare feet bleeding from a brush with broken glass, Miranda made her way through the remains of the old house, looking for the front door that never, ever seemed to be in the same place where she'd left it. She crept down what she was _sure_ was the central hall, even though the wan streaks of indifferent daylight poking through the occasional hole in the roof now showed threadbare carpet instead of scratched hardwood. She tried not to lose what was left of her sanity when she spotted the bright splashes of blood against the wall.

Behind her a wisp of deep violet smoke oozed out of the baseboard. A tiny scuffling sound made her spin around with a gasp … but there was nothing there.

"Sarah? Is that you?"

The silence was absolute.

A choked sob escaped her. "Sarah, this ain't funny anymore!"

This time the barely heard step came from her other side. Eyes darting everywhere, she pressed up against the wall.

Waited.

Waited.

Waited …

Her heart hammered so hard she was afraid it was clearly audible from either end of the long hallway.

She eased along a few more steps, her head whipping back and forth, then came to a stop in front of a floor-length mirror that stood against the wall at the junction it made with a side corridor. A long, red smear marred one edge of the frame. She mumbled, "I don't remember this being here. How did …" Then her voice trailed off as she caught a glimpse of movement behind her. Jerking around and drawing a breath to scream, she stopped when the other hall stood obviously empty. "What the hell?" She looked back at the mirror and stopped breathing altogether. The figure standing behind her in the mirror was tall, deadly pale, and featureless, and clutched an old saber in one bony fist. This time she did scream as she swung around and struck at … nothing. She couldn't believe it. There was nothing there. She panted a couple of times, fists held up before her, when the rusty blade erupted from her gut, and the specter stepped out of the mirror.

Everyone in the theater jerked hard. Most of them screamed from the crushing aura of fear permeating the huge room.

The six male demons sitting in the back row beside Raven soaked it in like the aroma of freshly-baked bread.

Forty-five minutes later, after the credits were gone and the lights had come up, the infernal creatures were the only ones left. All six of the demons were flopped or sprawled over their seats, wide grins of satiation showing double-rows of sharp teeth. Raven looked around at them, then floated up to face them all. "Well?"

The eldest of the group shook his head, stood, and bowed deeply. "You are the very soul of wisdom, Dread Lady."

Another one heaved himself unsteadily upright and breathed, "Never, in all my eons, have I experienced such a banquet." He caught Raven's eye and saluted, then bowed. "And they do this to _themselves?_ _**Deliberately?**_ "

"On a very regular basis. Entertainment of this type is quite popular."

A third one muttered, "I don't understand it. But I like it."

Raven gave him a nod. "As you must know from your interaction with them, mortals frequently have self-destructive tendencies. This is but one expression of it."

Two of the others whispered together for a moment. One of them cleared his throat and asked, "So … are you suggesting that we, ah, move here? Permanently?"

"Not at all. Your spirits are intimately intertwined with the Eighth Circle. You can leave for a period of time, but eventually you would run out of magical potential and wither away to nothing. No, I have something else in mind. This," and she gestured around at the theater, "was an experiment. A successful one, I'd say."

The demons shuffled around, giving each other furtive glances. "So … you're gonna send us back? That team of succubi got to stay here for a week!"

"And I might let you do the same if I thought you bunch could rein in your more violent tendencies."

Their voices tripped over each other in reassurance. "We can! We can!" "No problem!" "It'll be fine!" "We won't hurt anyone! We'll stay by the theater and … and do what we did!" "Please, Dread Lady, it was incredible!"

She pretended to think it over, then went up to each and drew a rune on his forehead. "That should do it."

They looked at each other. One said, "Dread Lady, I don't recognize …"

"Of course not. I just invented it."

Another touched the one on his face. "It doesn't … hurt?"

"No. And as long as you behave yourselves, it won't." She got significantly larger as four red eyes appeared on her face. Her hair billowed out around her. Her lower canines protruded from her jaw, and her voice dropped three octaves. "But if you give in to your inclinations and actually try to harm someone, you'll spend the next 99 months in The Long Pit."

They all snapped to attention. That was no idle threat, and they knew it. "It shall be exactly as you say, Dread Lady."

"Good." Suddenly she was her regular self. "Have fun. I'll see you in a few days."

. . .

. . .

. . .

 _Sequoia National Park, 12 September, midnight_

Raven sat on a wide limb about halfway up one of the colossal trees in the ancient forest, eyes closed, breathing slow and deep and regular; her mind was as clear as a cubic meter of hard vacuum; she had been in this state of deep meditation for close to seven hours. This place, she felt, was as close as she could come to an actual holy spot without getting into trouble. Her soul was a spiritual beacon, calling out for recognition from beings who would normally be her implacable foes. But she had a dilemma, and this was the only way she could think of to get around it.

The fact that it might end with her utter dissolution wasn't something she currently felt like dwelling on.

An increase in the ambient temperature was her first indication of response. Still she held absolutely still, offering herself with no reservation to this new invading presence. The heat continued to increase. She began to feel faint. As the Queen of the Eighth Circle, she had a total immunity to natural heat. This radiation, though, was entirely otherworldly; her cloak took on a char here and there, began to smoke lightly. She had known from the moment she made this decision that the price might be higher than she could pay. She considered the risk worth it.

Wind, or the sensation of wind, whirled around her, creating sharp, sharp edges that passed close enough to her skin to leave traces, faint red marks that resembled burn scars more than anything else.

Still, she held her peace; moved not a muscle; kept her mind open and honest and clear.

Gradually, the storm died down; the furnace blast eased to a warm breeze. That tableau held for an unknowable time.

 **{ { Open your eyes, child } }**

"I think, Holy One, that it would be best if I didn't." She'd been expecting an angel … but not _this!_

 **{ { No harm will come to you } }**

Keeping her head down and eyes averted, she allowed them to open. The forest was gone. They floated in a null-space of … she wasn't actually sure it was white. But that was the impression she got.

 **{ { Daughter of Trigon, look at me } }**

She found that she could, and without even too much pain. She straightened up. "Thank you. I know you are masking your essence for my sake."

 **{ { I had no wish to destroy you } }**

"How is it that you allow the Daughter of Trigon to stand in your presence?"

 **{ { Because you are more than that } }**

She bowed her head again.

 **{ { You have a boon to ask } }**

"Yes, Holy One. I have a burden, an inheritance I no longer wish to bear."

 **{ { Those souls did not come under your control by accident } }**

"But I have no wish to torment them. It is not my place."

 **{ { Your sire would have disagreed } }**

"I don't doubt that. But he was a Being of unrelieved evil. I am … a hybrid. I know that I carry the potential – even the inclination – for evil in my heart …"

 **{ { The same may be said of all sub-planar beings } }**

"Well … yes. I freely admit that. But there are currently 695,878 mortal souls in the Pits of the Eighth Circle … and I feel … no, I _know_ I have no right to hold them."

 **{ { What would you have me do with them? } }**

"Take them out of the Circle. You can put them somewhere safe, keep them … I suppose 'in stasis' is a reasonable term … until, you know … THINGS settle out." Thinking about the End of Time never left her feeling warm and fuzzy.

 **{ { Why do you ask this? } }**

"I can't do it myself. I am working my will upon the Circle as I may, but my sire controlled it for millennia. There is a great deal of damage to undo."

 **{ { This, I know } }**

"The native demons … were encouraged to develop some bad habits. It will take much effort to change this, and the presence of souls available for torment … the temptation …"

 **{ { It is a righteous thing you wish to do } }**

"… I'm not sure I'd go quite that far. I consider it pragmatic. If I want to aim for the redemption of the Eighth Circle, I see little choice."

She could feel the wave of amusement radiating from the Being. **{ { Pragmatism has its place, but what you wish to accomplish is a drastic lessening of basic evil … a righteous act, regardless of your motivation } }**

Swallowing hard, she asked, in a very subdued voice, "So, will you do it? Will you take these souls from me?"

 **{ { I will } }**

She sagged with relief. "Thank you, Holy One!"

 **{ { You may call me Haniel } }**

"… I … I don't …"

 **{ { But not if it makes you uncomfortable } }**

"Thank you." Suddenly the presence seemed … distant.

Raven blinked. The change was instantaneous.

Jinx startled a bit as she looked up from the magazine she was thumbing through, and said, "Hon? Hey! Where in the world have you been all day?"

The empath stood in the center of her room … which whirled around her briefly before she crumpled to a heap. The last thing she heard before she lost consciousness was her lover screaming, "RAVEN!"

. . .

. . .

. . .

 _The Eighth Circle, some days later_

Those demons who could fly were aloft, though hard-ridden by gale-force dust storms. Those who couldn't fought like crazy to keep their feet. Hellstone shuddered and flowed under the direction of the Queen who had absolute control over the substance of this dimension.

Raven, in her demonic form, floated high above the maelstrom as she re-cast the landscape into a truly immense coliseum. In truth, the transformation took only minutes, though it seemed much longer to those caught in it. When everything settled down, all of her subjects were present, standing in a respectful attitude, awaiting her pleasure.

She had created a gigantic throne in the center, and settled down onto it, reassuming her more-or-less-human form. Using her innate abilities, she appeared to every last demon as if they were face-to-face; she had their undivided attention.

"I have learned much recently," she said, conversationally, "and have decided to share some of it with you."

They waited, silent, expectant.

"You are all free moral agents."

That statement brought a tsunami of confusion, summed up neatly in the sentiment, "But we're all damned!"

"And why do you think that?"

There was a short period of puzzled thought. Here and there the thought popped up, "Because Trigon said so. He said we were inherently evil."

"And because Trigon _**never**_ lied about _**anything**_ , you just took that at face value. Right?"

More confusion. Waves and waves of it.

She calmed them down. "Imps and mephitis, succubi and incubi, demons and devils of all levels and proclivities … are you not sentient creatures? Are you not capable of making decisions independent of the group-think that Trigon forced on you? Dwell on that for a bit." She lay back in her throne (now a recliner) and crossed her legs at the ankle. "I'll wait."

The discussions and debates went on for long enough that Raven got bored. She stood and said, "All of you … leave that question alone for a while. There's something else I want to get done."

Quiet descended.

"There are 53,074,808 of you here. You are the sum total of the inhabitants in this dimension. Trigon, in his own personal brand of 'wisdom', cleansed all life from the rest of this universe. Do you all understand that?"

"Yes, Dread Lady!" They were glad to be able to answer one of her questions without strain.

"Very well. I have made a count of the habitable planets in my realm." She paused for effect. "Even counting only the ones that are move-in ready, there are over four thousand available planets for each one of you!"

They gaped at her.

"Hear my decree, and receive my gift. Each of you is to claim ten planets for his or her own. In your search for such planets, I give each of you the power to move instantly across this universe." She stood then, and drew a complex rune in the air. It split into millions of copies and raced out into each demon. "Now. You all know where all the available planets are located. Each of you gets ten … and I _don't_ mean eleven."

"Yes, Dread Lady!"

"That rune will last for one month. Wherever you are when it deactivates and disappears will be where you will stay for the time being. You can, however, travel freely among the worlds you have claimed."

"THANK YOU, DREAD LADY!"

"You all know of – and some have directly experienced – the higher emotions available to you from a few of the mortal races. This, then, is my task for you: You will re-form one or more of your personal planets into such a configuration as to excite that emotion that you most cherish, be it love, fear, sorrow, longing, glee, lust … whatever you find most fulfilling. If you want to work in groups, that _**may**_ be fine, too, but I will decide whether your proposed group is allowed."

There was an awestruck silence, punctuated here and there by wild cheers.

"I can tell that most of you have no idea of how to go about this. So here is what I will do. You decide what you want your planet to look like, whether it has life or not, what sort of life that will be … and I will lend you enough of my power to do it."

The wild cheers became nearly unanimous.

She held up a hand to calm them. "Barring sentient life. I'm not going to create anything that might itself be subject to emotional abuse. But I will give you the power to create illusions, for those of you who don't already possess it."

This time the cheers went on for quite some time. Raven watched them, silently taking the measure of each. A few thousand of the travel runes disappeared while the celebration held sway.

Raven stood, raised an arm. "You may go."

A nearly deafening cacophony of CRRRACK noises filled the coliseum as fifty million demons teleported away. In a quarter-minute, the only ones left were those whose travel runes she had removed.

The demons looked around in confusion for a few moments, then turned their attention to their Queen, staring at her in fear. One of them whispered, "How did she know?"

"This is my realm. Mine. What happens here, happens at my pleasure. The rune that I gave you also gave me access to your minds, your thoughts, your deepest desires. What you bunch were planning … let's just say that I have a bit of an object lesson in store for you."

Their panic mounting, they began to beg and plead to be spared … but Raven was unmoved. "The only thing any of you is interested in is actual murder. That does not comport with my plans." She chuckled, a sound that froze every one of them in place. They knew the scent of doom when it smacked them across the face. She concluded, succinctly, "It's the Long Pit for the lot of you."

"NOOOOOO-" Their lament was cut off as portals opened under each of them, dropping them straight into Deepest Agony.

. . .

. . .

. . .

 _ **One more chapter to go.**_

 _ **Reviews = Love!**_


	6. Chapter 6

**Revisions**

 _by Concolor44_

. . .

. . .

. . .

 _ **Author's Note: Yes, it will take a while … centuries, possibly. She considers it worth the effort (and she has the time, so why not, eh?)**_

. . .

. . .

. . .

 **Chapter Six**

. . .

. . .

. . .

 _Titans' Tower_

Nightwing stared at Raven in disbelief. "… And you're calling it _**what?**_ "

"The Eighth Circle Travel Service. The logo is a circle made up of eight small, red rings. Cute, huh?"

"… Why?"

"Why that name?"

"Yeah."

"Why not? It's a straightforward, no-nonsense name that doesn't mislead anyone."

"Well, yeah … but how the hell, you'll pardon the expression, do you plan to get anyone to take it seriously?"

"Not a problem."

"… Meaning?"

"Meaning we're booked up for the foreseeable future, at least on the planets that are ready for clients."

"… Seriously?!"

"Serious as a Federal subpoena. There's a waiting list."

"But … but what are they going to be doing on a planet in Hell?"

"Pretty much anything they want." She caught his confused expression and clarified, "There are several … I guess you'd call them Levels of Experience. There's a Late Teens version, which would be not terribly unlike a really well-done Haunted Mansion, only a lot more intense. Some of the boys have gotten really creative with that stuff." She gave Nightwing a keen glance. "You are aware that teenagers feel things more intensely than older people, yes?"

"Yes, I knew that. But …"

"Terrific. Anyway, the teen sections are monitored to disallow entry to anyone who's under fifteen or over nineteen. Also, they're warded to prevent any hanky-panky of the sort that teens like to get up to."

"You would be quite familiar with **that**."

"Ditto you and Star. And Gar and Terra. And, for that matter, Aqualad and Argent, and Speedy and Cheshire, and Kid Flash and …"

"Yes, I get the picture! You're curbing certain of their natural urges."

"Correct. Otherwise, their guardians and/or parents likely wouldn't sign the consent forms."

"Ah! So you _are_ doing that."

"Of course. Think I want to get hit with a ton of lawsuits? Or unplanned pregnancies? Duh." She cleared her throat. "Next come the Young Adult experiences, for the Twenty-Something crowd. They tend heavily toward romance and, ah, the physical expression thereof. Then …

"Are you even sure this is legal?"

"The niceties of interdimensional leisure travel don't really have any legal underpinnings yet. Glitch says we can expect to work through those in the next couple of years. Anyway, at the top of the heap there's what we're marketing as The Ultimate High. That one we're only offering to those who are, first of all, over the age of twenty-five, and second, _not_ virgins. And they have to sign a waiver."

. . .

. . .

. . .

 _Eighth Circle: Planet 1,585,404 (Paradise Found)_

Tomas simply couldn't take his eyes off Maia. This thoughtful, generous, stunning genius of a woman had said, "I do" some six hours earlier, and now she was looking at him with a mixture of puzzlement and expectation.

"So when do I get to find out where we're going?"

"Soon." He stroked a hand down her soft cascade of wavy, black hair, never tired of the sensation.

"We've been in this elevator for kind of a long time."

As if that were a key phrase, the elevator slowed and stopped, the doors whooshing open gently. Maia's breath caught. She took a slow step. One more … did a long pan of what lay in front of her. "Oh … my … God."

This rambling suite was roughly halfway up the side of a steep mountain, and the expanses of glass on three sides offered nearly unbelievable views of the rest of the range, and the long downward sweep to the bright sands of a pristine beach. Tasteful, comfortable furniture was arranged here and there, presenting seating for any desired view. Directly across from them, wide French doors opened onto a deck of some richly golden-brown hardwood that led down to an infinity pool. Flowers of a hundred varieties decorated the walls and various stands and trellises. Off to the right, in a cozy dining nook, a table was set with braised duck, twice-baked potatoes, a delicate aspic with wedges of lightly toasted naan, and a toothsome deconstructed salad. A magnum of champagne stood in an iced container to the side, accompanied by a chilled bowl of strawberries. Open double-doors to the left let her see into the spacious bedroom.

Utterly stunned, Maia stepped down off the landing and wandered into the bedroom. Indirect lighting in the tray ceiling cast a soft glow. A California King bed dominated the far wall. Two huge closets to either side held a variety of clothing. She pointed to the clothes and gave him a puzzled look.

"They're tailored."

Her mouth hung open a second or two. "Tailored."

"Yes. Don't worry, everything will fit. Also, we get to keep it."

"But … how …"

"I told you this resort was different."

Maia gave him an incredulous look, then shook her head and stepped over to another door. The bathing area contained a gigantic tub, liberally supplied with jets for subtle massage. The vanity had five mirrors and four different lighting schemes. Several nooks contained a bewildering array of soaps and perfumes, shampoos and oils and lotions.

She trailed a slim hand along the luxurious textured wall covering, then glanced down at the soft, resilient surface of the main floor. It looked a bit like suede. She knelt and felt it, a silly grin coming to rest on her face, then kicked off her shoes and dug her toes into the cool, mossy covering.

Tomas's grin answered hers. "So, do you like it?"

She turned her dark, smoldering gaze on him and said, "Come here and let me show you how much."

##

* * *

In the hidden chamber immediately below the opulent suite, a quartet of succubi sprawled on overstuffed sofas. An occasional low moan or sigh of delight punctuated an otherwise complete silence.

Several hours passed.

When the newlyweds upstairs had taken a break to try a bit of the duck, resumed their earlier activities, and then were _finally_ exhausted enough to sleep, the demons began to stir. One of them shook her head, managed, after some effort, to focus her eyes, and looked over at Zori. "Dam _ **nation**_."

"Toldja."

"Best … fucking … thing … ever."

Another one slurred, "We're gonna hafta do som'thin' f'r Dread Lady. Som'thin' special."

"Got that right."

The last one spoke up. "Keep this up an' I'll get fat."

"Only if you want to, ditz. You can shapeshift."

"Mentally fat."

"Too late."

The insulted demon waved it off with a thoroughly-sated smile. "Whatever. In too good a mood to care."

"Oh, hey! Listen!"

"Huh?"

"She's dreaming!"

Quiet descended again.

. . .

. . .

. . .

 _Titans' Tower_

"This has to be the craziest business model I've ever heard of!" Nightwing had both hands on his head. "Are you going to make any money _at all_ on this?"

"Made."

"… Beg pardon?"

"We've already cleared our expenses. From here on out, something like eighty percent of what we take in will be profit."

"But … But how …"

"Because there are better than forty-three thousand sapient species inhabiting just this galaxy. We're advertising on quite a few of them."

He stared at her for a second, then nodded. "Huh. So … so, do the demons have a favorite mortal race to …"

"Oh, sure. Dozens, depending on which emotions are being harvested. Humans are pretty versatile, but if you want a completely amazing fear reaction, take a look at the Bahool, the inhabitants of Dekkom. They evolved from a prey species."

Nightwing considered that. "Seems like that would make them want to _avoid_ any scenario that they knew was going to scare them."

"Yeah, most of them. But the incidence of not-wrapped-too-tight is even higher among the Bahool than it is among humans. And you know the rest of the galaxy thinks humans are pretty much bat-shit crazy."

"They're not far wrong," he muttered.

"Exactly. So even though they have a startle response to the slightest stimulus, there are a significant number of them that want the thrill." Her lips curled into a slight leer. "Think of it as similar to the asphyxiation high associated with climax."

"Now _**there's**_ a picture I didn't need."

. . .

. . .

. . .

 _Eighth Circle: Planet 666,666 (Phobia)_

"They've … cleared … the first zone." The red-skinned demon at the control board had to prop himself up with an arm of his chair.

Their Coordinator, Amateratto, managed a quiet, "Excellent."

"Hey, Amateratto?"

"… What?"

"Have I mentioned … lately … what a genius you are?"

"Not … in the last forty seconds … or so."

Another demon, who had fallen out of his seat, murmured, "So … delicious."

A low, satisfied chorus answered that.

One of the two still in his seat grunted, "Probably about five minutes before they hit the next zone."

From the floor came a faint, "An' I'll need all of 'em to get back into my chair."

##

* * *

"Stay close! _Close_ , damn it!" Eric reached over and grabbed Elizabeth by the wrist.

She jerked her arm away. "Don't touch me!"

"We have to stay on the trail! It's like fucking Mirkwood out there!"

"Knock it off, you two," advised Zachary, the supposed leader of the group. "They may be deaf, but that doesn't mean they can't feel vibrations."

Elizabeth spat, "Just 'cause he's on the football team, he thinks he can do anything!"

Adjusting his glasses, Zachary insisted, again, that they be quiet. "If we're gonna get through to the base, we have to stay away from the spiders." He edged his jogging speed up a notch.

Karen, who had come on this trip under objection and against her better judgment, mumbled (again), "Those can't be spiders. They can't. They just _can't_."

Lana, already quite tired of that refrain, finally muttered, "Why the hell not?"

"They're too big."

"Too big? But didn't bugs and stuff used to be a lot bigger? Like in the fossils?"

"Not that big. Not even close."

Exasperated, Lana asked, "And what the hell does _that_ mean?"

"Spiders … spiders are different. They move their legs by altering the hydraulic pressure in them. Their exoskeleton is really only there to direct the motion, to act as a … a kind of pipe or hose. That's why they curl up when they die. No hydraulic pressure."

"… How do you _**know**_ this crap? You spout stuff like that in class all the time, and I know it pisses off ol' Ms. Jenkins as bad as it does me!"

"Clarinda Jenkins is an idiot, and a complete waste of space as a teacher. That doesn't change what I said." She gave Lana a sober look. "I listened to a TED talk once by this spider expert. His position was that if spiders were the size of _house-cats_ , there wouldn't **_be_ ** any humans."

Zachary was rubbing his temples and trying to keep himself from shouting. "Can we please just walk?" _Frankly, I'd rather herd house-cats. At least they'd keep moving._

"I still don't get it," insisted Lana. "Why does hydraulics-"

"Because of the force involved. A spider's leg weighs a few milligrams, if that. The change in pressure between curled and extended is minuscule."

"Yeah, so?"

"That thing was bigger than my Mom's Mini Cooper. The legs were … Zach, what would you say? Somewhere between ten and fifteen centimeters?"

"What I say," he responded through gritted teeth, "is that we need to keep moving and BE QUIET."

##

* * *

Amateratto ducked his horns through the doorway and called, "Phase Two coming up!"

Two other demons, sitting at monitor stations, grinned evilly and started manipulating a series of holographic control surfaces. One said, "Right. 'Spiders 2.o' coming online."

"The Arachnopocalypse."

"Heeheeheeheeheeheeheeheehee!"

Suppressing a grin, Amateratto asked, "How long till they hit the receptor zone?"

"Not long. Have a seat." He adjusted the gain on the Emote-o-Scope™ and leaned forward. "Not long at all."

##

* * *

Lana scoffed, "Yeah, yeah, fine. Geez." She hefted her machete. "I think this would slice through 'em pretty good, though."

Karen shook her head emphatically. "No. It wouldn't."

"… Why not?"

"Hydraulic pressure. Moving something that big – that fast – with hydraulics would take some serious pressure. To hold that pressure in, the exoskeleton would have to be ridiculously strong. So, no, I don't think your little whackety-whack would do much to it. Which is also why I'm sure they _can't_ be _spiders_."

Rob, who hadn't said anything up to that point, muttered, "Sure _looked_ like spiders."

"Maybe they're robots," offered Elizabeth. "Those can get really big! Like in Pacific Rim."

Karen and Zach both turned to her with their mouths hanging open. They glanced at each other. She said, "You wanna take this?"

"Sure."

They all resumed their quick-march as Zach stepped back beside Elizabeth. "In the first place, that was science fiction. Emphasis on 'fiction', with the 'science' part pretty much trashed. In the second place, that movie was the worst pile of techno-drivel I ever attempted to sit through. As far as bad movie physics is concerned, it gives _The Core_ a run for its money. In the third, the writing sucked ass and the plot had more holes than a fine Swiss cheese. In the fourth … well, it was an Idiot Plot."

Elizabeth caught the capital letters on that term. "Idiot Plot?"

"Where the things the people do are only explainable if they're all idiots. Look, they spent billions building those Jaegers, right?"

"Right. That's why it was such bad news when one would lose to a kaiju."

"Uh-huh. Well, for the same price as one Jaeger, the government could have built at least forty rail gun emplacements. There were twenty-odd Jaegers, so that's eight hundred rail guns, any one of which could take down a kaiju from five kilometers out."

"… What's a rail gun?"

He started rubbing his temples again. "Explain to me one more time what you're doing here?"

"My lottery ticket got pulled. Same as you!"

Eric stuttered, "G-guys?"

They looked over at him.

He pointed at something that was rustling the bushes off to their right. "RUN!"

They ran.

The spiders ran faster. Fortunately, there were only three of them this time.

Karen was correct. Their machetes couldn't penetrate the tough chitin. The eyes, though, were a different issue, as Eric discovered. The others emulated him, and quickly drove off the eight-legged nightmares. They were about to resume their run when Karen shouted, "Hey! Where's Bob?"

"You mean Rob?"

"Whatever. Where is he?"

They called his name a few times, but he didn't appear. There was, however, more rustling in the forest. On both sides. Casting terrified glances at each other, they turned their jog into a sprint. Zachary complained, "Nobody said anything about fighting real, live, giant, fucking _spiders!_ Not one word!"

Karen shouted him down. "Those things can _ **not**_ be fucking _**spiders!**_ "

"Shut up and run."

##

* * *

"Everybody still with me?"

Several gurgles (and one giddy laugh) answered Amateratto. One said, "Sure, Boss. No prob." But he didn't get up.

Another one said, "Sinnerrit? Might want to … turn the volume down … a little. Whoosh."

"Yeah. Who knew six kids … could radiate … so much fear. … Shit … just … shit."

"They get … to the base camp yet?"

"Ten minutes, tops. And when they discover … it's been trashed …"

"Yeah. This is, like, the best thing possible. Ever." He giggled. And if you've never seen a spike-encrusted, four-meter-tall, fifteen-hundred-kilogram demon giggle, well … let's just say it's kinda unsettling.

Amateratto, who was beyond gratified with the success of his design, commented, "Right. And you know what the best part is?"

"What's that?"

"The complete shock they feel because this is all real."

"Ha. Yeah. And they came here of their own free will."

"They were expecting some kind of virtual reality. Instead, they're being chased by real, actual monsters, who now seem to have made off with one of them. That utter denial, underlain by the knowledge that, yes, they came here deliberately, even paid for the privilege, and now they're afraid they might really die. The raw power of their fear! So pungent! And that sprinkling of disbelief for seasoning. And it's all _right here_ , in our dimension, where we can get the maximum dose." He paused, musing. "Heh. Anybody ever says a word against the Dread Lady, I'll pull his lungs out through his armpits."

He got a rousing chorus of agreement with that statement.

. . .

. . .

. . .

 _Titans' Tower_

"So. We're starting the saturation campaign in two weeks."

"You planning on filling … what was it? Better than five hundred million planets? You said you gave each demon ten, and there were better than fifty million demons."

"Oh, that won't be necessary, certainly not at first. Sure, there are a few who decided to pander to specific fetishes, but they're in the extreme minority. Also, with very few exceptions, the demons formed teams."

"Teams? For what?"

"Several reasons, not the least of which was that teamwork helped them get their worlds finished a lot faster. Confidentially? That was one outcome I was really hoping for."

. . .

. . .

. . .

 _Eighth Circle: Planet 7 (Downhill)_

Elsa took a deep breath, relishing the bite of the cold, achingly clear air.

Angela asked, "You ready?"

"Born ready."

Her partner gave her a sidelong look. "Sure you were."

"Burning daylight, Angie."

"What do we do if we get separated?"

"Aw, come on!"

"What do we do if we-"

"Coordinate GPS beacons and establish radio contact."

Angela smirked. "Good. Straight out of the guidebook. Okay, then, what if your GPS gets smashed?"

"Then I have an emergency backup beacon in my helmet, and another on my belt."

"And if those, for some reason, don't work?"

"Flares. One on each stick, two on my belt, two in the lower rear pockets of my coat." Elsa turned to her and took one of her hands. "It'll be okay, Angie. I promise."

"You can't _make_ that promise. That's why we signed the waiver." She pointed to the trail head. "Once we get past the second marker, it's sixty-two hundred meters before there's even a hint of a place to pause. Four jumps. Five-"

"Five seventy-degree falls. And eight of those ultra-slalom areas where we could crash straight into a rock face if we don't do it just right. I know. We've been through this." She pulled Angela into a hug. "Are you really that worried? We talked all this out. Or I thought we had."

"I'm … um …"

"What's _really_ wrong?"

After a couple of quick swallows, Angela whispered, "Manaslu."

"Sweetie … that was almost three years ago. I'm completely healed."

"I know."

"And I'm a better skier for it, right?"

"… Better than you were."

"… And?"

"… um …"

"What you're trying to say is that I'm still not as good as you are. Right?"

Angela shrugged and nodded.

Elsa leaned in and rubbed noses. "We know where all the dangerous – um, all the _worst_ parts are." She chuckled. "I guess the _whole thing's_ dangerous."

"Yeah."

"Honey … we're here. We've already paid for the trip. If all we wanted to do was soak in a hot tub and make love, we could've stayed in Fort Collins."

"I know."

"Just think. Think of the stories we'll get to tell. Can you picture Chris's face?"

That pricked a smile up on Angela's lips. "He'll be so green everybody'll mistake him for a potted plant."

"Some of our friends already do that."

A full laugh answered that statement. Angela hugged her love and laid her head on the taller woman's shoulder. "It sounded good in theory. Maybe not so much in practice." Turning her head, she gazed out into the uninterrupted blue. "Looking down that slope now? It's a bit … intimidating."

"Yes. It is. But is _anything_ in this life – anything that's worth the effort – _**not**_ intimidating at some point?"

"Hah. Ya got me there. _You_ were certainly intimidating … at first anyway."

"Only because you didn't know I'd already set my cap for you."

They stood in silence for most of a minute. At length, Angela let her go and backed away. She bent down and checked the security of her ski boots. After a couple of seconds, Elsa did the same. Then they adjusted their goggles, tightened all the places on their parkas that needed tightening, and headed for the slope.

##

* * *

Erterasu muttered, "It's about damned time."

"Cool your jets, brother," answered Malvikkor as he placed the transmission helmet on his head. "The feast is about to commence."

One of the issues the demons had to get around was the proximity factor. The intensity of emotional pickup fell off at a ratio of half the square of the distance, so the closer they were to the mortals in question, the better. That meant the adrenaline rush experienced by the skiers would hardly be a trickle unless the demons actually followed them down the mountain. Not a problem for those who could both fly and become invisible … but that didn't include any of the present company.

After conferring with Raven about their needs in this area, she met with her tech-succubi and they hammered out a concept for a remote directional pickup. Three design iterations later, they had one that would channel a practically undiluted flow of exhilaration from one spot to another. The demons had almost a quarter of a million of the devices placed along the various slopes of their resort.

As Angela and Elsa passed the first one – the one concealed in the bright white sign with the row of three black diamonds on it – the half-dozen demons in the command center visibly sagged. Low moans and satiated grunts were all that was heard there for the next forty minutes until their guests reached the bottom of the long, long slope.

##

* * *

Angela was absolutely giddy. "We didn't die!"

"Nope!" agreed Elsa as she picked up her lover and twirled her around. "Although I'm pretty sure my thighs are going to be screaming at me tomorrow."

A slow smile took over Angela's face. "Didn't you say something earlier about a hot tub? And possibly a bit of lovemaking?"

Elsa set her down. "I surely did."

"You know a hot tub does wonders for over-taxed muscles."

"It surely does."

"And gets you all clean and fresh and stuff."

"The possibilities are truly endless."

Grabbing Elsa's hand, Angela urged her toward their transport. "Last one in's a rotten raisin!"

"More like first one in, but I get your point. Let's not dilly-dally."

"I like the way you think."

Once they were seated and on their way along the monorail back to the lodge, Angela ventured, "Think we can try the other three-diamond slope? In, say, a few days?"

"You know it, babe."

. . .

. . .

. . .

 _Titans' Tower_

"Wait … you _want_ teams of demons?"

"I _want_ a spirit of cooperation. Demons tend to be self-centered. They were like that even before Dear Ol' Dad took over, and his influence didn't improve things at all."

"I imagine not. So … cooperation? Thinking outside of themselves?"

"Sort of. Naturally, to begin with, it's all about instant gratification. But gradually, over time, my goal is to expand their horizons, emotionally."

"You'll have to spell that one out. What horizons?"

"You'll have noticed that they come across as a bit one-dimensional. The succubi are all about the lust, for example."

"Eh. True."

"I hope, eventually, to help them get rounded out as individuals. Many of them aren't bad company when you get down to it, and I think they have a lot of potential. This system is also training them to be less violent."

"Less violent? But didn't you say that the point for a lot of them was to generate fear or dread or something similar? How is that less violent?"

"It's less violent than actually disemboweling the victim. See, now they know that they can count on repeat business: an endless stream of willing victims who will give them all the fear or lust or dread or exhilaration they can handle. It will condition them not to kill."

"Okay, I'll agree that's a good thing."

"Thanks." She headed for the Common Room door.

"Where you off to now?"

"I promised Jinx I'd take her to this lovely little bistro in Antwerp. They have the most amazing mussels …"

"Right. Have fun."

"Oh, trust me … I will."

. . .

. . .

. . .

 _ **End Note:**_

 _ **Here ends this portion of the cycle. There will, in all probability, be at least one more story. I've got the basic plot. But first, there are a few "Frozen" stories that need my attention, and then a couple of sequels for older tales …**_

 _ **So many stories, so little time.**_

 _ **Reviews = Love!**_


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